


Heart to Heart

by FriendshipSuplex



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Death, Gore, Other, Violence, baby's first published fanfic, horrible robot sin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-02 02:02:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5229662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FriendshipSuplex/pseuds/FriendshipSuplex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mettaton is curious about humans. Specifically, the inside of them. More specifically, the inside of you. There's only one way to satisfy that curiosity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heart to Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I've written a fanfic that I've shown to more than one person, and my first time writing gore. I think it turned out alright?
> 
> If you're looking for smut it's not here. Just murderous robots.
> 
> also posted on tumblr: http://dirtyrobofucker.tumblr.com/post/133383502134/heart-to-heart

“Sweetheart? It’s time to wake up, now.” 

Gloved fingers brush against your face, slowly bringing you back to consciousness. You slowly open your eyes and immediately wish you hadn’t, as the bright lights in your face aggravate your pounding headache. You attempt to turn your head away from the light, only to realize your head is locked in place by metal restraints, propped up just enough that you’re forced to look at your bare chest. Your whole body is restrained, you realize, with your arms outstretched painfully and metal clamps digging into your skin so tightly you can’t even struggle. Fear slowly creeps in as you realize what’s about to happen.

Mettaton finally caught you.

“Did you sleep well?” He smiles sweetly, and somehow the fact that it seems genuine only scares you more. “I hope I didn’t scuff you up too badly on the way here, sweetheart. That wouldn’t do at all. Humans are so delicate…” Tears form at the edges of your vision, and you start to beg, pleading with the killer robot to let you go, please, you’ll do anything he asks. He shushes you gently, stroking back your hair and planting a light kiss on your forehead. “My sweet darling, there’s nothing to be afraid of. I just want to see your heart.” You think for a moment that maybe he isn’t going to kill you, until he takes a few steps to a nearby table and picks up a scalpel.

You can’t help it, and you scream before he even gets near you again, hoping that someone, anyone will hear you. Someone has to save you, this can’t be happening to you, please… Mettaton looks irritated for a moment, and sets the scalpel down before picking something out of a nearby drawer. “Screaming isn’t allowed,” he says, forcing your mouth open enough to shove a bright pink ball gag in, securing it behind your head and muffling every sound you try to make. He picks up the scalpel again. “Let’s get started.” He presses the scalpel to the top of your sternum, slowly dragging it downward and seeming to revel in the sight of blood seeping out and the sound of your muffled screams. He starts to make another cut near your collarbone, and, mercifully, you black out from fear and stress.

Ice cold water is poured onto your face, instantly waking you and causing you to choke and sputter around the gag. “I can’t believe you, darling,” Mettaton says, holding an upturned cup just over your head. “All the trouble I’ve gone through for you, and you can’t even stay awake?” Your eyes drift downwards, and all other thoughts drop from your head as you see yourself. Your chest has been flayed open, skin and muscle pulled back and pinned to the side, exposing your ribs to the open air. You can see your lungs move and your ribs flex every time you take a shaky breath. You can feel a dull pain everywhere in your body, although you think adrenaline is masking most of it.“You were going to miss the best part!” You flick your eyes back to Mettaton, who seems more excited than you’ve ever seen him. His normally pristine white gloves are currently stained red and brown with your blood, and you shudder thinking of how much he enjoyed cutting you open.

He takes a step closer to you, idly running a hand down your exposed bones. “Hm. I knew I should have brought a saw,” he mumbles to himself. Gently, deliberately, he grabs your sternum with one hand and your bottom set of ribs with the other, and before you can question what he’s doing he suddenly jerks back. You hear it more than you feel it, the loud, wet CRACK as he snaps your rib with his bare hands, yanking it out of your body and casually dropping it on the floor next to you. “Honestly. The one part of you humans with any protection and it’s the part I want to get to! Can you believe it?” He giggles to himself as he snaps the next rib off. Your eyes go out of focus as you feel tears stream down your face and your chest heaves from sobbing.“You’re making it hard for me to work here, sweetheart. Could you try to hold still for me? Oh, never mind, I’m almost done anyway.” He snaps the last bone holding your ribcage in place, and tosses it over his shoulder, letting it clatter against the floor somewhere.

You don’t want to look, but you can’t tear your eyes away when he sticks his hands inside your body, pushing organs to the side, nearly puncturing a lung until he finds what he’s looking for. He lets out an almost disappointed _hmm_ as he wraps one hand around your beating heart. “This is it?” He reaches behind him with his other hand, fumbling just a little before he grabs his favorite scalpel again. “Oh! It’s certainly beating fast now, isn’t it? My, my.” He caresses the bottom of your heart with his thumb, before lowering his scalpel hand and starting to slowly slice through the arteries and veins keeping the organ in place. It doesn’t hurt as bad as you feared, you think hazily, as you feel a warm wetness start to build in your chest, blood pooling at the bottom. Mettaton lifts your heart out of your body, examining it like fine jewelry, as you feel your limbs start to go cold and your breathing slows. “Well! Do you want to know what I think, darling?” Your eyes drift to his face once again, even as blackness starts to creep on the edges of your vision. He brushes his free hand gently over your cheek, leaving a wet trail of blood as he leans in close.

The last thing you hear is his voice, inches from your face: “You’re disgusting.”


End file.
